Soul Set Free
by jojospn
Summary: "Heart" tag. SPOILERS for those who haven't seen that episode yet. It had broken him to kill her; and he had only known her, cared about her, for a few days.


**A/N: This one shot is a little tag to "Heart" so spoilers for newcomers who haven't gotten that far yet. I want to thank all those who have read, PMed, favorited my work, and have supported me in general. You're amazing! DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**Supernatural,**_** just borrowing the boys. All rights reserved.**

**Soul Set Free**

The San Francisco night was slightly cool, enough that one would probably need a light jacket for warmth, but Sam Winchester seemed oblivious to the chill as he sat on Madison's front porch, the faint breeze slightly drying his tear dampened face. The moon cast an eerie shadow on the young man, who was toying with the handgun he held in trembling hands; the safety was on, Sam was not _that_ foolish, but every now and then, he would stare at the weapon, repulsed, wondering if he should just flick that little switch, pull that trigger… hell, Dean had told himself that if he couldn't save him, he'd have to kill him. Why not make things a little easier? But Sam quickly brushed the thoughts aside, ashamed that he had even considered suicide in the first place. It had broken him to kill her; and he had only known her, cared about her, for a few days. If he were to pull that stunt on his brother…well, Dean would _never _get over it.

No, suicide wasn't an option.

But this pain, this gut wrenching, intense grief that he had not felt since Jessica's death over a year earlier, it was so intense that Sam felt that he couldn't breathe. She had asked him to do it, had begged him to. "This is how you can save me," she had said through her tears, handing him the gun with trembling hands. "Please." And it was his love (_was _it love, or just a desire to protect her?) for Madison which had helped him kill her, put her out of her misery.

Fresh tears began to well in Sam's hazel eyes, eyes that Madison had admired just the night before, after they had made love. "You have the most beautiful eyes, Sam," she had breathed, brushing aside one of his brown locks to stare into them, soft brown with hints of his brother's green. Sam had laughed softly at first, slightly surprised, but endeared by Madison's observation. She had told him that she had heard that through one's eyes one could read into a person's soul; they had shared a chuckle, and just lay there, enjoying each other's company as the firelight flickered in Madison's bedroom fireplace.

But that night, as Sam had stared into her dark brown eyes, bright with tears, he realized that he really could see into Madison's soul, one that yearned to be set free. How could he hold her back, imprison her to a fate which seemed to her worse than death? It was tragic to end her life; but it would be a sin to let her live, keep her soul trapped in a life of blood, fear, despair…

"Don't think of it as killing me," Madison whispered through her tears, as if reading Sam's very thoughts. "You're letting me go. You're saving me."

_A soul set free to fly…._

The front door creaked open, and Dean settled on the porch beside his brother, not saying a word. But when he gently extended his arm for his brother's gun, Sam quietly placed the weapon in his hand, wiped the tears with the back of his hand, still trembling slightly from grief. After a few moments, Dean stood up, headed for the waiting Impala. "Whenever you're ready, Sammy, I'll be waiting. Just take your time." Sam nodded, watched as his brother made his way back to the sleek car and settle behind the wheel. For once, no loud music could be heard from the speakers; the night was still, the only sounds being the whisper of leaves dancing in the breeze; the faint smell of wildflowers in bloom lingered in the air, and Sam was reminded of Madison's soft perfume, citrus with hints of floral.

After a few moments, Sam finally stood up, made his way back to the Impala and Dean, neither saying a word the entire drive back to the motel. Later that night, he dreamed of Madison, dancing amidst a field of golden California Poppies in the mid afternoon sun, her dark hair and soft white dress flowing in the breeze. Her smile was brilliant, her laugh like soft music. And when Sam awakened that morning, though still with a heavy heart, he felt comfort that wherever she was, Madison was happy. Free.


End file.
